Checkers
by PriSimIcL
Summary: James was the black piece. Lily was red. They were like checkers, red and black, intertwined, fated to stay together forever. J/L.


**A/N:** _A_ _thought about how James and Lily were Meant to Be. ;)_

 **Disclaimer :** _I do not own Harry Potter._

* * *

 **Meant to Be**

 _We got nothing but time_

 _A_ _s long as you're right here next to me, everything's gonna be alright._

 _If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be_

 _Baby, just let it be_

 _-Bebe Rexha_

* * *

They were like checkers, red and black, intertwined, fated to stay together forever.

When they first met, like on opposite ends of a checkerboard, they hated each other, would frown and turn away at the first sign of black hair and hazel eyes and red hair and emerald eyes. He would make fun of her goodie two shoes and she would gnaw her teeth in anger every time he's being a right big prat.

Then comes third year and the black pieces of the game moved forward a step. He would notice the fact that she's kind of pretty, with her prefect badge and smile every time she leads the first years to where they need to go. She would notice that he stares, and she glares at him, thinking he's a right big prat that wants to annoy the hell out of her just because he doesn't like Severus.

She's becoming increasingly popular day by day, year by year. Her nice and brilliant personality mixed with the fact that she's absolutely fit makes almost every bloke stammer and blush and want to date her. Even the Slytherins, who weren't keen to say anything that borders on being too friendly with muggle-borns, talked among themselves that they want to get in her knickers.

He is literally the bloke that every girl at Hogwarts fancies at various degrees. A few were brave enough to flirt with him, while the rest stared and giggled amongst themselves. Even _she_ secretly thinks he's fit and handsome and all that, but that can all stuff itself when all he knows about is pulling pranks and jinxing people for a laugh with his three best mates. Sure, he's the best player on the Gryffindor team and he made the most spectacular shots Hogwarts has seen in centuries, but did he really have to be an arrogant berk about it?

He notices that she's top in Potions but loves Charms. He likes the way her hair isn't exactly red at times when the torchlight picked out gold and orange strands and the way her perfect teeth flashes modestly as she grinned along with her friends. Or how she tries really hard to get her studies in check and how she takes her prefect role seriously. Or even how she gets along fine with his "special" Marauder mate. But why was she always hanging around Snivellus?

She hates how he always beat her in Transfiguration so effortlessly and how he always seem to get away with things because of his pretty face and Quidditch position. She notices how he loves Defense Against The Dark Arts and how he stands and reacts against the suspicious acts of the Death Eaters every morning in the Daily Prophet. She notices how his Patronus is a perfect match to hers and how he looked a bit embarrassed and how he avoided her eye while the students around them gaped at the stag and the doe. But why in high hell does he keep asking her out?

The black front line of the checkerboard moved forward again as they became friends after the Snape incident. He can't stop staring at her during classes and the lapses of time between them. She just looked so goddamn beautiful with her not-all-the-time red hair and perfect teeth and emerald eyes that shined and sparkled when she laughed and faint freckles that sprinkled over her nose and skinny pale legs and on and on and on… He also found out that she can be really cheeky and that beneath the cool facade that everyone else thought she is, she is really fun to be with and she uses all her cleverness to her advantage. He finds himself very much drowning in it...in her…

Each passing day filled her with happiness and confusion as her heart reacted faster and more frantic with each passing moment they spend together. She finds herself holding her hands back every time he drags his hand through his hair, holding herself back from dragging her fingers in the same path. She started to look at him a lot during classes and the lapses of time between them and her friends noticed and teased her about it. She found out that he had stopped hexing people for a laugh, had grown more mature, but that he loved to find fun and happiness in pranks. She found out that his pranks with his mates weren't harmful, but rather funny and centered on the wannabe Death Eaters in the hope of lighting other people's thoughts about the furious war going around them. The red pieces on the checkerboard moved forward and matched every move he made.

There were times when they both wondered if the Headmaster is bloody nuts or bloody brilliant, appointing them Head Boy and Girl. They would both feel awkward sharing the same Head dorm and taking turns using the same bathroom. He would sigh in frustration at the feeling of being a git handing out detention slips and docking House points, and she would laugh and tease him about the sudden change, even though she's head over heels at his sense of responsibility and is hoping for so much more… But that can never happen, they both thought, stealing longing looks at the other, she hates him, doesn't she? And he no longer asked her out anymore 'cause he doesn't like her anymore, doesn't he?

When they finally got together, it was like fireworks, there was a lot of sighing and cursing and people losing money over the pair of them. But after all, they all thought, even the Slytherins and the people who were bitter about it, they were just meant to be aren't they? A fantastic and unbelievable love story come true.

They never got tired of kissing the other, never got tired of the heated snog sessions between classes and after Quidditch victories. Her tongue would be bold and daring, licking, sucking, tangling with his, making him groan and shudder every time. His teeth would nip, caress, graze, mark her skin, and she would moan and tug gently at his hair every time. There were times when she wore his clothes and he would laugh and gulp at how ridiculously cute she looks and she would giggle when he smells a lot like her….

A few months in and they got into the unfamiliar art of shagging, because they just couldn't help themselves and thought they were going fucking mad at the depth they love the other. It would be a subtle touch or glance or word, and their hearts would race and blood would pound into their cheeks, their head, and then they would find themselves falling onto his dorm bed or stumble into a broom closet and have their way. They would hiss and moan every time their hips brushed or rocked against the other, and he would groan and she would whimper every time he enters her. It was always slow and then climbing fast and erratic, desire and love passing between mouths and hands. Her fingers slid through his hair and dug into his back and his would be running up and down and back again through her body. As they moved and whispered love into each other's ears, heart, blood, time seemed to slow and not matter anymore, the world around them would stop and pause in their merciless crumbling…

They were like checkers, red and black, intertwined, hand in hand, together forever, an old game that stays engraved in people's mind throughout the harsh expanses of space and time.


End file.
